


It's The Middle of the Night

by Yevie



Series: Knocking on Doors [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevie/pseuds/Yevie
Summary: It's three in the morning, Alexander wants coffee and Aaron is awake.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, I just got to see the Chicago cast preform Hamilton and then I saw this prompt http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/152222554036/i-have-a-paper-due-tomorrow-and-its-three-am-i
> 
> It seemed like a sign.

Aaron, for the life of him, could not justify why he was up at three in the morning. Normally he made it a policy to be in bed before eleven pm. He prided himself in the fact that unlike some people who he would not name, he both knew how to manage his time and how to not take on half a dozen more projects than he was capable of handling.

Which is what made this entire situation more ridiculous. He’d known he had no time for an extra volunteer project. But, when Eliza Schuyler had asked him if he could possibly spare a Sunday to help her out with her event at the group home, since the other guy had bailed and it seemed like something Aaron might care about, Aaron had said yes without even trying to find a polite way out of it. Maybe it was sentiment, Aaron had been lucky enough to avoid group homes. 

Or, maybe it had been Alexander’s words ringing in his ears. “You don’t care about anything, Burr.” It hadn’t been the first time Aaron heard that, it hadn’t even been the first time he’d heard that from Alexander. In fact, Alexander seemed intent on finding new ways to call Aaron immoral and selfish every day. Sometimes, it took all of Aaron’s self-control not to punch Alexander.

Still, the words had gotten under Aaron’s skin. So now Aaron was up late trying to finish the essay he should have been finishing earlier because goddamn Alexander Hamilton had managed to get into his head.  

There was a knock on Aaron’s dorm room door. He didn’t bother standing at first. It was probably a drunk someone mistaking Aaron’s dorm for their own. They’d hopefully realize their mistake soon enough. Except, they didn’t. The knocking only grew more insistent.

Taking a long inhale, Aaron stood. He shoved his chair aside a little too hard, then opened the door.

There stood Alexander Hamilton, as if Aaron thinking about him had summoned Alexander.

“Burr, I need all your coffee. Or tea. Or, hell, cola. I don’t really know what you drink, but you must have something caffeinated in stock since you’re always so damn peppy in the morning.”

“Peppy.” Aaron repeated, deciding it wasn’t worth it to bring up that getting enough sleep generally made mornings less hellish.

“Awake. Up. I’d say put together, but I’ve never seen you look anything but.”

Aaron took another inhale. “Alexander, it’s three a.m.”

“I know. That’s why I need the coffee.” 

“And what made you think I would be the best person to ask for that?”

“Your lights. They were on.”

“My lights. How-“

“I was outside. Taking a walk, clearing my head, getting ideas and I thought that as long as you’re up, you wouldn’t mind. Not that you’d say anything if you did mind. You just make that face – yeah, that one. That, ‘I am annoyed but if I ever said anything you might mistake me for someone who actually has opinions,’ face. Anyway, can I have your coffee?”  

Aaron counted to ten. “That’s not the way one normally asks for a favor, Alexander.”  

Alexander shrugged a shoulder, “Please? Or do you want me to start singing your praise? Beg you? Write you a sonnet? You always complain that I talk too much, so I figure you’d want me out of your hair,” He paused, glanced up at Aaron’s head, then added, “metaphorical hair, faster.”

That had not been what Aaron had meant. But, lecturing Alexander about manners was as futile as trying to get him to shut up. Not to mention, Aaron had an essay to finish.

The smart thing to do during this moment would be to deny he had any coffee and shut the door in Alexander’s face. The next smartest thing would have been to just give Alexander his bag of coffee. Aaron did not do a smart thing.

He’d made the mistake of actually meeting Alexander’s eyes. There were deep, dark bags under them. Alexander’s hair, which was normally tied away, fell in front of those eyes. But the eyes themselves, despite the obvious exhaustion of Alexander, were sharp and awake. Bright.   

“Fine. Come in. I’ll make both of us a cup.” Aaron said, once more making a dumb decision because of Alexander Hamilton.

Immediately, Alexander broke into a grin, “Thanks man!” He said, giving Aaron’s shoulder a squeeze, then brushing past Aaron and into the room.

It took a moment for Aaron to stop blinking. Had he really- Fuck it. Aaron went over to where his mini fridge was and pulled his water pitcher out. As he set up his coffee maker, he asked, “How do you take your coffee?”

“Hm?” Alexander said, sounding distracted.

Aaron turned around and saw Alexander sitting at Aaron’s desk, staring at Aaron’s laptop.

Count to ten.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re also working on the essay for Washington’s class. I’m trying to figure out how you make such a non-opinion sound so convincing.”  

Count to fucking ten.

“Alexander, I would prefer it if you didn’t touch my stuff.”

“Huh? Well, I’m not really touching it. It was up and I’m working on the same thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to steal your ideas. Not that there’s much to steal there anyhow. I mean, seriously, your argument basically boils down to ‘both sides have equally good points so no conclusion can be drawn.’ And come on, Burr, you can’t honestly believe that.” 

Ten. Ten. Ten.

“If you’re going to insult me, then you can leave,” Aaron walked over and shut the laptop.

“I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just trying to understand you. I really can’t figure you out most of the time.”

“Alexander,” Aaron warned, regretting his decision to let Alexander in exponentially more every second.

“No really. You’re damn smart. I mean, you don’t even have opinions and yet you manage-“

“I have opinions,” Aaron snapped.

Finally, Alexander shut up. He stared at Aaron, tracing over Aaron’s features with his too sharp eyes.

It took everything in Aaron not to flinch, to act like he’d intentionally shouted rather than simply acting on impulse.

“You’re angry,” Alexander said, stating the obvious.

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Insults anger most people.”

“And here I was doubting your humanity.” 

“Hm.” Aaron felt naked. If there was one thing that made Aaron feel safe, it was his ability to show only what he wished to show. And yet, Alexander had not only managed to twist that around and make it sound like some moral failing, he’d managed to make Aaron show things Aaron didn’t even care to feel. If Aaron had any sense left, he’d shove Alexander out of his room as soon as Alexander had a cup of coffee in his hand.

Then, everything went silent for a blessed moment. Alexander seemed to have lost some of whatever frantic energy had made him take a walk at three in the morning. Aaron was just tired.

Aaron turned back to the coffee maker and started to consider the ways he could finish the essay. ‘No opinion,’ however rattled in his brain.

“What argument are you making?” Aaron asked before he had time to think better of it.

“Hm? Well, it’s pretty obvious the kid’s innocent. That was going to be my argument at least, but I was stuck. It’s boring, too easy, you know? I mean, this entire prompt is too easy. ‘Make an argument for the guilt or innocence of the boy in 12 Angry Men.’” Aaron didn’t even need to turn around to know Alexander was rolling his eyes. 

“It’s an introductory course.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But, anyway, I realized that was too boring. Actually, I want to thank you. Now I have a better idea.”

“Oh?” Aaron tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“I’m going to argue it doesn’t matter if he’s guilty or not and that the prompt misses the entire point of the movie.”

Aaron snorted. He hadn’t meant to do that either, but it seemed like his self-control had all but left the minute Alexander knocked on his door.

“What?” 

“You know Lee’s grading our essays, not Washington.”

“And? I don’t really see what our TA hating my guts has anything to do with this.” 

“Washington might humor a creative reinterpretation of the prompt. Lee would not.”

“Lee can go to hell.”

Of course Alexander would care more about making a point than having a good grade. But, Aaron didn’t feel like pointing that out. Especially not with the coffee done. Aaron took the pair of mugs he kept on the mini fridge and poured Alexander and himself coffee.

“Milk? Sugar?” Aaron asked.

“Neither.”

Aaron passed a mug to Alexander, poured some milk into his own mug and sat down on his bed. And almost as quickly as Aaron sat down, Alexander finished his coffee. Just as quickly, Alexander was on his feet and heading for the door.

“Thanks Burr. I owe you.”

“No problem,” Aaron lied, standing to walk Alexander out. Once Alexander was out the door, Aaron said one last thing, “And, for the record, I think the boy’s guilty.” Then, he shut the door before Alexander could respond.

 

 


End file.
